Finding Herself
by shelovedhorses
Summary: Hermione Granger, separated from the her two best friends. PostHogwarts.
1. Chapter 1

**Finding Herself: Chapter 1**

* * *

People had forgotten who Hermione Granger was over the years. Once in a while, it might occur to them, if they thought hard enough, that she had once been friends with their saviour, Harry Potter. Later, as more time passed by, even this singular thought faded as people started concentrating on an escape. As things progressively worsened, there had to be one. To some it came in the form of drinking, to some suicide, to some fights, and the rest put their energies in finishing the war. The setting was tense enough, the amount of people around, plenty, and certain people could barely control their pent up ill-feelings toward each other. After all, it was many people, some grudgingly, putting aside their differences, banding together so that something larger could be accomplished. Focusing on this one goal in mind, Hermione Granger started to dissolve. The Order pushed her aside in favour of people who would be of practical help in their plight. She did not exist anymore to them. Overnight, she had disappeared right before their eyes.

She obliged them to forget her, of course, because she was a danger to all of them. She realized it during her last defensive attack for the Order. The last time she tried to help. The last time she would ever have been able to have helped, because after that, she wasn't in control of herself. She didn't have an identity.

She belonged to him.

* * *

_Dumbledore looked up at her with those famed twinkling eyes. It was something akin to __a blinding hope. "I trust you will make the right decisions, Hermione?" He asked referring to the defensive attack in which she was going to participate in. "You are a valuable asset to the Cause. You were always a special and smart woman. Remember that." It was puzzling to hear him say this, as she was not an important or integral part of the force. Giving her an encouraging speech to her, should have been last on his list of duties. _

_She nodded out of deference. On the inside, she scoffed at the word 'valuable'. _

* * *

Hermione sighed at her desk, feeling the complete and utter satisfaction of work that had been taken care of. She leaned back into the chair and allowed herself a few moments of blissful respite.

Her coworker, Brandon Marley, passed by her desk. "Hermione, don't stay here too long," he pleaded. "Me and the boys are going to get something to drink. Join us after you're done." He knew that no matter how many times he asked her, she would never come.

Hermione nodded at the gesture, and waved goodbye. Brandon was hopeless. He had been trying to get her out ever since they had become good friends. She knew he was interested in her – in her health and safety that is. He'd also been giving not-so-subtle hints that suggested he wanted to take her out, but she didn't have time. As nice as he was, and exceptionally good-looking he was, she did not feel pulled towards him. Endeared, yes. Attracted, no.

But she did love working at the St. Mungo's Research Facility. It provided her with an infinite amount of challenges. It was a very rewarding job, and she lost herself in it. At the beginning, it was only a way to become useful to the Cause. She thought she could discover new potions that could cure some incurable malady, or perhaps, create a potion that would bring someone from the brink of death- anything that would help.

That wasn't the case anymore. She worked at this job, because it was a distraction. She stayed late everyday, past midnight most of the time, and then would sleep at her desk. Waking up in the morning, no one would notice that she had never left. Once in a while, it might cross their mind that her card was never punched in nor was it ever punched out, but then the thought would strike them as ridiculous. Something faulty in the system, because who could live at St. Mungos for a year and a half? No one needed to know anything else though, and like everyone else who focused on the imminent battle plan for their own selfish reasons, this was her escape. She _needed _this.

Soon, she found herself falling asleep, and she let her head rest on the table as the serenity of the empty room cradled her, releasing her to the waves of sleep.

She was startled awake by the distinct click of high heels, looking up in a daze to a woman's incredulous stare. "It seems no matter how early I come to work, you're always here. Wonder why that is…," she lifted an inquisitive eyebrow, and then directed a pointed look at a certain person.

Hermione rolled her eyes at Brandon's sister, Amanda, who was just as interested in her well-being as her brother. The pair of them were overbearing.

"Strange…you seem to be wearing the same clothes as yesterday," Amanda commented suspiciously.

Hermione took a quick glance at the clock on the wall. 'You must be kidding me. Amanda came early with one sole purpose. She knew.'

It read, 4:30 a.m.

Hermione shook herself awake, groaning. She had just gone to sleep. No sane person went to work at that time. "Okay, you caught me. I accidentally fell asleep yesterday at my desk," she pouted.

"Right," she said disbelievingly, "Listen, Hermione, I know you've been staying here for the past one and a half years. I even have evidence." She produced the completely blank punch card and shoved it in front of Hermione's drowsy countenance. "- and add that to all the times I've caught you like this…" Watching her growing discomfort under her intense scrutiny, she said, "No need to say anything, but I do have one question." Amanda looked her friend in the eye squarely.

"Why?"

Inside, Hermione started to panic as a whirlwind of alarms sounded off inside her head. She wanted to say…That she would go insane if she didn't. That her life would be one never-ending nightmare if she didn't. She couldn't explain it. Not to her. Not to anyone.

"I-I…" Hermione stuttered and trailed off, hoping for some sort of interruption, but the halls were dark, and unsurprisingly empty. They were probably the only people in the building, besides the overnight patients.

Suddenly, someone's footsteps pounded on the floor, and she watched as a young man rushed over to her desk, and give her a tight hug. "Ron! What are you doing here?"

He loosened his grip on her, and then pulled up a chair beside her. "What do you mean, 'what am I doing here? I haven't seen you in forever. Merlin's beard! Hermione, I thought you disappeared off the face of the earth. What happened? I mean, I woke up today, and started early on my search to find you. I searched your apartment, and I found out you've been renting it to a family for the past year and a half?" Ron had worked himself up in a rage, and was panting at the end.

Amanda sent Hermione another accusatory look, and then squealed, "Hermione, is this your boyfriend?"

She watched as the boy beside her friend became red as a cherry. Ronald Weasley was trying his hardest not to be embarrassed. "Amanda, don't be silly. By the way, Ron, this is my friend Amanda. She works at St. Mungos as well."

Ron acknowledged the black-haired woman, introduced himself, and then turned his attention back to his best friend. "So, Hermione, what happened all these years?" Hermione now was looking for another surprise distraction, but none came. She looked up at Amanda, but she seemed to be interested in an explanation as well, looking at her with an austere expression, silently demanding a reason.

Hermione sighed in resignation. It was a long story. She might as well get it over with.

Ron, it seemed, needed time to think about all that she said, and promised to visit later at lunch, and Amanda was just as dumbfounded by all that she revealed. Hermione decided it had been a wise decision to leave some other details about her life hidden. They weren't ready for it yet. Heck, she wasn't ready for it. She knew that when the time came, when she had to tell them…they would not be able to recognize the type of person she had become.

Of course that had been the edited version. She knew they wouldn't have liked to know the dragon's wings she used in her potions bought from an illegal vendor from Brazil, banned by the Ministry. It was an ingredient that was considered dark. It impaired the dragons for life, and saw to their constant pain, and inability to fly. It saved patients though. She knew saving patients would be a good enough excuse for them, but she did not think she could pull it off. She did not use these ingredients to save patients.

She used them to further only one purpose: her own exploration of magic, her own addiction.

* * *

Ron walked out of the gloomy building feeling bad. Bad as an understatement. He wanted to rip himself to pieces for letting Hermione go on like that. He had woken up early that morning to try and find his best friend. He wanted to talk to her before the Final Battle. He knew he did not have a high possibility of not surviving. But what did he find?

Blimey, she lived in a bloody hospital for a year and a half, and no one had a clue. How could have Hermione thought she wasn't wanted, or needed for that matter? For the last years they'd struggled without her research, her companionship to get them through tough times, and her wonderful insight. Harry and he had wanted the best for Hermione, and they thought she just wanted to forge her own path away from them their own very dangerous one. They let her have a chance to stay away from the muddled mess, and she thought she was being pushed away? He was still frustrated, and ran his hand threw his hair. The worst part was that he had this inkling of distrust. He wasn't getting the whole story…

Ronald Weasley had to pay a visit to the infamous Harry Potter.

* * *

Amanda Marley was not as clueless as Hermione might have thought she was. She was quick, and was diligent, a very good Healer and researcher. If Hermione Granger thought she could pull one over on her, she was sorely mistaken. Her brother was on some level was in love with her, and she couldn't help but be protective. She was only a few years older than her brilliant colleague, and sometimes could not understand her friend's mumbling. Contrary to her brilliance, Amanda was befuddled by the way Hermione acted with covering up her tracks. She was so careless, or more simply did not care. Besides her and her brother, no one else took notice to anything Hermione did out of the ordinary. They took her words for face value, and that was a as far as they went. They did not bother to look behind. If they had, they would have seen something scary. The kind of scary that tempted, allowed indulgence and then took no mercy.

She had also caught Hermione Granger while she was sleeping many times. Those times she caught Hermione sleeping, the room felt darker and foreign. Her friend emanated a sort of evil that crept up your back and grabbed hold of your neck in a quick motion. It pushed her away in an ominous way, which was why she always left quickly, noting down the strange things she said in her sleep.

The twenty-two year old woman looked up from her desk as she saw the familiar bright orange hair that seemed to be trademark of that family. Interested, she transferred her rapt attention from "The 100 Uses of Vampire Blood" to the desk beside hers.

"Hi Hermione," said the red-headed man bashfully.

"Ron," she replied. "Why don't you sit down?" She asked, obviously anticipating his visit, because she was usually in the potions laboratory rather than at her desk. Again, was that feeling that something was off. Something wasn't right with Ronald.

He took a seat in front of her desk and rubbed his hands together. "Dinner sound good?"

Amanda was quite surprised, but was happy for her friend. A boyfriend for Hermione would be great. She continued to keep her eyes, 'surreptitiously', on the couple, while pretending to read the next scroll labeled, 'Illegal Substances, and their Illegal Uses'.

At first, she frowned at the way he had phrased the question, sent him a puzzled look, and then laughed. (Hermione's laughs were very rare to Amanda.) The broad range of reaction was worth noting, Amanda thought. "I'd thought we were both over each other in seventh year, and Ron," Hermione berated, "This is not the time to talk about it. We haven't even had a proper conversation in years."

Instead of Ron's face flaming up with embarrassment as he usually did, his face seemed to reveal a discomfort, as if he was trying to hide something, and had almost been caught. As he realized what he had just said, he replied, "Don't joke, Gra-," he started, and then corrected himself. "Hermione."

Amanda watched disconcertingly, Hermione's expression of teasing turning to grim. She saw her friend thinking hard, her mind probably moving at the speed of lightning. 'Harry' was obviously a very personal subject.

Hermione was scared at the prospect of Harry and Ron seeing the person she had become. A lifetime ago they had been bosom buddies, all in it together to fight evil, but as she deviated from that path, she seemed to be going in the opposite direction of them. She was terrified, when or if they found out. It was hard to look at herself in the mirror, knowing the type of person she was. After thinking, she decided it was best. She agreed with Ron.

She could tell he was worried, but the anxiety dissipated from him, as she picked up her coat, ready to leave. She did want to see Harry. She'd missed both of them, terribly. As they passed Amanda's desk she said, "Tell your brother that I can't go out for drinks with him today." Hermione glanced at Ron, who was waiting impatiently. She braced herself.

"I've got a date."

And for the first time, she lifted her lips in a wry smile, punching her card, walking out of the building she had called her sanctuary with a man she considered a ghost.

* * *


	2. Chapter 2

**Finding Herself: Chapter 2**

* * *

Hermione sat on a bar stool, twirling her straw in her Shirley Temple, feeling out of place in the fancy restaurant. She'd been eating cafeteria food for years now, and this was certainly different. There were waiters for starters, instead of a self-serve center, and the ambience of sophistication. Looking down at her own clothes (that were close to threadbare), she conceded that she wasn't ready for this sort of encounter. Beside her, Ron seemed at ease in this comfortable setting- being waited on hand and foot. It made her wonder what would happen when the war hit. They did not seem ready at all. It also got her thinking about the kind of person Harry Potter had become. If he walked in here with a tailor-made tuxedo, without a sign of stress on him, she would be worried.

The air between the two at the moment felt like two strangers forced to communicate. The uncomfortable silence was broken when she started to question Ron about his personal life.

Ron seemed to break out of a stupor, and responded guardedly. "Not married yet. But I am dating on and off." At her raised eyebrow, he added, "with the same girl."

She was able to process his secret message. He did not want to endanger someone he loved, by marrying them. He was unnervingly close to Harry in regards to what Voldemort would consider as a likely target. At his terse answer, she could tell he was reluctant to say anything else. Maybe it was for her safety and for the safety of the Order. She was just put off that he couldn't tell her – after all the time they had been friends. Just then, she felt a strong aura enter the restaurant. All the people in the room snapped their attention to the entrance. There was a dull silence, as the boy-who-lived rushed over to his best friends. He greeted them politely, and the Maitre'd escorted them to a more private area. Leaving the area, she could not help pick up snippets of conversation.

"Harry Potter, my, my, that boy has certainly done a lot in the short twenty years he's been living," a bald man duly noted.

A red haired woman from across the room was heard singing praises – literally.

"Long live Albus Dumbledore and Harry Potter!", someone yelled.

As they neared their destination, she saw a man eye her with an open stare. He didn't fit in at all. The man was haggard, and unshaven, dressed up in rags a vagabond would not even consider wearing. She returned his stare, having every right to do so.

Harry Potter was not how she had pictured him. She watched how he reacted to the comments. He did not soak them up as she had expected, but he hadn't completely ignored them. He acknowledged them, smiling and waving, but never talking. He was not the reckless boy he was when she knew him, and he was not the suave man she had envisioned, nor was he a mixture of both. Sitting down after Ron, Harry sat beside her. She was in the middle of both boys. Wasn't this awkward? Then, she admonished herself. They _are _your best friends. They _were_ your best friends. They would never be the Golden Trio again.

The area they had been taken to was in fact a small room, and very private. She searched for the magic in the room and could tell there were wards for apparition, against destruction, and the door was locked with magic that a simple 'alohomora' could not undo. They ordered their food as a waiter unlocked the door and came in, and she took the time to study Harry. He was harder to read than Ron. He was more somber than she remembered, and the light in his eyes had dulled. She could tell he had become much stronger, not just magically, but physically. He grew taller, and grew some muscles. He was quite handsome, in a roguish sort of way. Messy hair, a common trademark of his was ever present. His eyes were a brilliant green, and then she suddenly realized he did not have his glasses.

His dark chuckle startled her out of her thoughts. "To protect myself from Voldemort, it's best I don't have any weaknesses. If he could blind me just by taking off my glasses, I'd be in big trouble, wouldn't I?"

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him. "Improved in legilimency haven't you? What about your occlumency?" She looked directly into his deep green eyes. She was not surprised to find a thick and foreboding barrier in her way. "Stronger than before," she noted with a smile. "I can't believe I haven't seen you guys in so long." She wrapped her arms around each of them, bringing them close. She was a little unsettled that Ron had flinched at her touch. "What have you two been up to?"

They both sent each other looks, and shrugged their shoulders. Harry sent her a pleading look, hoping she would understand.

"Oh, yes. Top secret information I'm not supposed to be aware of," Hermione said, trying to suppress the bitterness in the words, but failing.

Harry looked very apologetic while Ron did not seem at all affected. "Look, Hermione. I need to tell you something- something very urgent, but before I do it, you have to take an unbreakable vow that you will never mention it again. All right?"

He held out his hand, expectantly.

Hermione felt repulsed. It was a gesture that brought up the distrust between them. In her opinion, it effectively killed the mood that had a nice 'lovely reunion' feel to it. Now, she couldn't help but think that after all these years, he had come to use her. "Not yet," she heard herself answer in a far away voice. "Not until you tell me what's happened. Secret or not. Tell me about Ron. This isn't him."

The dishes they ordered appeared in front of them now.

Hermione was temporarily distracted by the delicious food in front of them, but then turned her attention suspiciously to 'Ron'. "You're not even eating. You always had a big appetite." Her eyes widened in surprise at what he had ordered. "You ordered fruit for dinner? Are you mental?"

It was evident that his cover was blown, so 'Ron' asked Harry silently if he could drop the mask, and received an affirmative nod. The voice that escaped Ron's mouth churned her insides. "Granger, if I eat any foods with salt in it, you can guarantee that my leg is gonna act up again."

The raspy, leering quality of it was not lost on her. Horrified, she jumped onto Harry's lap, and whipped out her wand. She thought, unnerved, about the Polyjuice potion they used in Second year. "Hermione, you're killing me," Harry said under the weight of his best friend.

"Oh…right." She climbed over his lap and sat on the other side of Harry. "How could you? How could you betray my trust Harry? You just let that – thing, hug me? Let him cozy up with me?"

"He's a member of the Order, Hermione," he said in a way that didn't give much of a defense.

'Ron' smiled again, but this time Hermione saw the smirk of a crude old man. "But-But, He's Moody!"

Harry glared down at his plate vehemently. Hermione almost felt sorry for the plate. "Things have happened in the war. Hermione, you have to know this. Earlier in the day, you saw Ron, right?"

She answered without a doubt. "Yes, that was Ron."

Harry's eyes lost the light in them. "You were the last person to see Ronald Weasley alive."

* * *

_She remembered the feel of blood that wasn__'t hers on her skin, the screams of anguish, and the feeling of those blood-red eyes following her every move. The air hung with death, and horror. She had found a temporary refuge in the back door of a shop and decided to gather herself, before she could attempt anything. She'd lost her wits at the sight of the many she'd seen killed, blood everywhere. _

"_I'm glad you found a place to hide." Hermione felt indignant that he thought she was hiding. _

_She saw a glimpse of Harry's face before he turned away, his back facing her. "Hermione, I am asking you to stay here, please." He accentuated the please at the end. _

"_Harry, I agreed to fight. I am supposed to fight. I should be protecting you. Don't deny me this." She was pained, at his reluctance to let her be in the way of danger. _

_She saw Harry in front of her shaking- with anger or fear, she did not know, but he was impatient to help the others. Before he rushed to fight off the Death Eaters torturing a young woman, he said vehemently, "Do what you will." Watching him run off, she knew instinctively what she had to do. _

_Running to where she heard the screams of a young woman, she found the crux of the whole battle. There, in front of her, stood the most horrific sight. Hanging on the rafters, upside down, were many of her friends. She ducked under the heads of Luna Lovegood, Neville Longbottom, and countless others. Their faces would haunt her in her nightmares. Their lifeless, blank eyes staring at her, taunting her to act. Their bodies were slung callously over the planks of wood. She knew they had suffered unimaginable torture before they were given the mercy of death. In the middle of all the dead bodies, and blood, stood the most evil, inhuman being in the whole world. _

_He stood there, revealing her fate. Her dead friends seemed to guide her to him. _

_Lord Voldemort was in the process of torturing Ginny Weasley, who was bravely, trying to stop herself from screaming, or showing any sign of pain. Hermione wiped the tears that had leaked out of her eyes, and knew she was powerless. Ginny was too far gone, she knew. She did not notice Hermione's presence. Voldemort, enjoying the torture, was not so out of it. His eyes, even though focused, were solely on her. If she was as Gryffindor as everyone said, she'd at least try. Putting half-hearted effort in a stunning spell, she only expected to startle the Dark Lord. _

_Hermione did not know if he had a shield up, or if the spell was too weak to even have affected him. He did not stop torturing the poor girl, until he decided to speak. "I've been waiting for you, mudblood," he said in a hissing drawl. Ginny dropped to the ground, shivering, still twitching violently from the after-effects of the curse. She looked up at Hermione with pleading eyes. _

_She knew they were asking her to finish her off. _

_Hermione__ took a deep breath, ignoring the dark figure who was smiling at the scene, knowing if she could follow through, she would know the worth of honour and could be easy to corrupt. The secret knowledge filled him with glee. _

_She pointed the wand, and put all her hatred of the war into the curse. The energy focused at that one point, the brilliant green illuminating the eyes of a murderer. She released the power, and it hit her best friend on her chest. The force knocked her down, and left a ghost of a smile on her face. Ginny was safe from anymore pain. _

_Hermione's legs gave out as they crumbled beneath her. Her wand fell out of her grasp, and she hung her head low. Voldemort's inhuman laughs filled the air, and brought her out of her stupor. He neared her, and held out a mocking hand. "Welcome to the Death Eaters. You've just proven yourself." _

_She looked up at him and sent him a look that clearly said, 'F--- off, my friend just died, you heartless killer,', but he did not pay it any heed, inching closer towards her broken soul. _

* * *


End file.
